Misplacement
by Choinoa
Summary: What happens after an author overdoses on Legend of Zelda playing and Pokemon episodes? Why, she writes strange crossovers of course! Read on, if you have time and braincells to kill...


Misplacement  
  
  
  
  
  
The young Hylian man stared down at his discovery, nudging it with his boot tip. It remained stationary, which both Link and his companion considered a blessing. They didn't know how they would react if it got up and did anything.  
  
"What is it?" was demanded of him for what must have been the eightieth time that day.  
  
Link tucked a few stray blonde hairs behind his ears, leaning a bit closer to the ground. He inspected the thing closely, observing it's long, black tipped ears and pale, brown striped yellow pelt. The warrior was tuning the possibilities over in his mind.  
  
"Do you think it could be a rabbit?" the little girl beside him asked. Rabbits hadn't been seen in Hyrule for a very long, time, so Link doubted it. It reminded him more of a Keaton mask.  
  
Saria kneeled down beside him, extending a finger to touch the creature. Her friend pulled her outstretched hand away, warning her that it might be dangerous. She blinked wide blue eyes at him, cocking her head to one side.  
  
"Do you think it might be a threat to the Kokiri?" she asked. As the Sage of Forest, she would naturally be worried about such a thing.  
  
"I'm not sure, but if it is, I know I can handle it." He ruffled her green hair, reassuring her.  
  
"So what is it?" Eighty-first.  
  
He had found the mysterious animal outside of his tree house that morning, during a visit with his old friends, the Kokiri. He had not an inkling of what it might be. It had lain apparently unconscious for the entire morning, and then Saria had stopped by to see him and had begun asking questions. The inquiries were doing nothing to help Link, and were, quite frankly, annoying the hell out of him. But the diminutive girl was his friend, so he remained calm. In truth, she was older than he, and would not take a scolding lightly. She would be more likely to come after him with a large stick.  
  
"Maybe," the young man began, "I could skin it and sell its pelt. It must be rare; meaning there could be a lot of rupees in it for me. " While he was seriously considering it, Saria jumped up, smacking him upside the head.  
  
"That's cruel!" she exclaimed. She took another swipe at him, which he deftly avoided. "We don't know if it's anything bad, and it's a creature of the Goddesses! You can't kill it! It has a right to live, too."  
  
The Hylian eyed her critically. " 'Creature of the Goddesses', huh?" she nodded, throwing back her shoulders in stubborn defiance. "You were singing a different tune when you found that Skulltulla in your bathtub, the other day."  
  
Saria blushed hotly, and looked to see if anyone had overheard the comment. There was no one else around. Thus assured, she protested loudly, "that was different," although she offered up no excuse as to how. Her eyes softened for a moment, and she gazed down upon the little yellow animal at their feet. "This creature looks so sweet," she said. "It's so fuzzy, and cute." Link thought he just might lose his breakfast.  
  
Right on cue, the thing twitched its ears, stirring from unconsciousness. Saria shrieked and backed as far away as she could, until she had managed to back herself against a large oak tree. Her companion snickered.  
  
Wobbling to its feet like someone who's had a tad too much to drink, the yellow creature regarded them both with liquid brown eyes. It steadied itself with its tail, which resembled a bolt of lightning.  
  
"You know," Link commented quietly to Saria, "what it looks like to me?"  
  
"What?" she asked suspiciously.  
  
"Tasty." He hadn't had lunch yet, and was feeling a bit peckish. The little green haired girl gasped, rushing to put herself between Link and the whatever-it-was.  
  
"You can't eat it! It might be an endangered species!"  
  
The warrior shrugged. What did he care about such things? All he knew was that it might make an interesting stew.  
  
Behind Saria, who was seriously obstructing his few of the possibly dangerous being, a tiny voice piped up.  
  
"Hey! Hey!" It was Navi the fairy, who had woken up from her nap and discovered the thing. Perfect. "Look at this thing!" she yelled happily, flying around it in circles, beaming a bright yellow. "Danger! Danger! Evasive action! Weird thingy at twelve o'clock! Fire up the ol' sword and let's get us some killin' done!" Link had been leaning in that direction already. He doubted that Navi had any useful information as to what it was, however, and ignored her for the time being.  
  
"Pika?" said the thing, startling everyone. It watched Navi slow in her circling, then sat up on its haunches, sniffing at the air and twitching its ears curiously.  
  
"Link," the fairy whined, "it's looking at me funny. Kill it already and rid the world of it's evil! I think it wants to eat me!" While the Hylian didn't think this would be a particularly bad idea, he refrained from voicing this out loud.  
  
"Pika-chu," said the subject at hand. "Pika." It was looking around in mild confusion; perhaps trying to get its bearings. Shaking a little as it walked, it came up to sniff Saria's ankle. "Chu?"  
  
"It's so cute!" the diminutive girl cried, scooping it up and holding it tightly to her chest. Link rolled his eyes.  
  
"Give it here. I'm starving."  
  
"Chu?"  
  
"Don't you dare, you savage…" Saria trailed off, searching for the insult that would carry the most weight.  
  
"Oh come on, I'll let you have some, too." She held the fluffy yellow bundle closer. Its small pink tongue stuck out a little as she inhibited it's preferred breathing patterns.  
  
"Chaaa…" it squeaked in a choked voice. Link wondered if he was lucky enough to have his friend kill it for him in her enthusiasm. Then he noticed something odd going on with the little red patches of fur on its cheeks. They seemed to be crackling….  
  
Saria, oblivious to this occurrence, clutched it more tightly, rocking back and forth. "I'll take it home and keep it for a pet," she was saying. "Do you think Cuddles would make a good name, or Precious, maybe?"  
  
Navi circled them faster and faster.  
  
"Danger!" she shrieked. "I sense something happening! There's an unusual energy coming from this creature. Kill it, dammit!"  
  
The thing's eyes narrowed. Little sparks flew from its cheeks. It uttered an angry, "CHUUU!" and quite suddenly and charge snaked out from it's red patches, enveloping Saria and itself in a yellowish glow of electricity. Saria let go of it, dropping to the ground in startlement and fixing uncomprehending eyes on a bit of green hair that hung in her face, with it's tip still smoldering. The animal climbed onto her head, and used this position to launch itself onto Link's shoulders. Saria fainted dead away.  
  
"Pika Chu," said the thing, resting one of its forepaws on the warrior's right ear.  
  
He cocked an eyebrow at it. "You have some sense at least," he said to no one in particular. "I'll give you that." Besides a barely perceptible twitching of its ears, it gave no impression that it had understood him, or even heard what he'd said. Link decided its intelligence was less than glowing, and began a complicated thought process that involved various methods of preparing lunch.  
  
Pikachu, who had understood him perfectly well, was doing some mental gymnastics of his own. He was dealing with considerable confusion as to where he was, why he was here, and where Ash might have gotten. It seemed to him that only a moment ago, he and his trainer had been in the middle of a battle with a particularly nasty Arcanine. He was just about to knock it six ways from Sunday, when there had been a bright flash of light. Then next thing he knew, he was here. Some strange people were prodding at him, and his head felt as though it was stuffed with something.  
  
This was as far as his limited thought processes could carry him, but it was all any basically intelligent creature required. After getting this far, his mind quietly prioritized things for him. The first thing he needed to do was eat. A nagging rumble in his stomach had begun shortly after he'd gotten some semblance of bearings. After this, he would have to find his trainer. He had a feeling that this man he'd found might be of some assistance. He had the same sense of purity and integrity about him that Pikachu recognized in Ash. However, he didn't appear to have any great comprehension of Pokémon; singularly, or as a whole. This meant that Pikachu would have to go to some lengths to be understood. That could be problematic.  
  
Link had begun climbing a ladder that ran up the length of a thick, aged tree. This took much less time than it had in his youth, as he'd grown to be remarkably tall, and could almost get to the platform at the top just by reaching up. The...thing…still clung to his shoulder. Pulling himself up, the young man entered the structure at the top. His tree house. He had to duck to get through the door, which was understandable, as the Kokiri had never excepted him to grow past their height. By their standards, the doorway had been unusually large when they'd presented the house to him. Inside, it was a humble, single roomed dwelling. A tiny bed was at the back, under a window. It was too small for him, and his feet hung over the edge, but he didn't complain. There was an equally small table to his left, and a dresser to the right. The only decorations in the room were an earthenware pot, and a bowl of fruit on the table. On his shelf, he also kept a few modest plants, which the Kokiri came to water for him every morning. The place was well tended for him while he was away, which was often. He spent nearly all his time patrolling Hyrule for Princess Zelda, and saw home rarely.  
  
Pikachu sniffed the air, pleased by the herbal scent that clung to the room. He leapt from Link's shoulder, landing on the bed. A thick quilt at the end of it drew his attention. Its soft texture was comforting, and he curled up on it, enjoying the warmth. After all the traveling he and  
  
Ash had been doing, a real bed was a welcome change from the Pokécenter couches.  
  
Thoughts of his trainer lingered painfully in his mind, so he decided to concentrate on the new man instead. He was doing something with a pot on a table. This had a feeling of wrongness to it, and Pikachu felt to urge to query.  
  
"Pika?" he asked.  
  
Link turned at the creature's voice. It was watching him intently, it's gaze darting between the warrior and the pot. He frowned. Could it actually understand what he was doing?  
  
"Do you understand me?" he asked, though he felt stupid doing it. It was only an animal…  
  
"Pikachu!" it told him with an air of annoyance. Link was dumbstruck.  
  
"Uh…" he said, putting himself between the pot and the creature's line of sight. It cocked its head at him, and he was almost certain it looked disapproving.  
  
"Bloody hell," he swore. "I was really hungry, too."  
  
~***~  
  
When Ash woke up, he immediately regretted it.  
  
His head ached something fierce, his elbow was badly bruised, and he was lying in a muddy puddle. As he sat up, it became apparent that he was in more than a puddle. He was also locked in a jail cell. (Well, he was in a jail cell. Locked or no was still under question, but to his knowledge most cells usually came locked if you found yourself in one.) However, this didn't really panic him until discovered that his Pokéballs were missing. Immediately he was struck by the loss, and had to steady himself with a hand on the floor.  
  
After at least five minutes of grieving the loss, which was a dull time no one really wants to hear about, he decided to do something about the predicament. He strode up to the cell door, gripped the bars tightly, and called out, "Hey!"  
  
There was no immediate response, so he tried again.  
  
"Hey! Is there anybody around?" He was answered only by a second helping of predominant silence. Shaking his head, he examined his prison carefully. Aside from several puddles and a hefty amount of straw, the tiny room was empty. There was nothing he could use to pick the lock, had he the skill, or even make a bit of noise with. For lack of any other ideas, he rammed the weight of his skinny, 11 year-old body against the bars, yelling for his captors at the top of his lungs. 


End file.
